Showing His Moves
by Gentle Hobbit
Summary: Not all is going well between Rose and the duplicate Doctor on the airship after they and Jackie are left at Bad Wolf Bay. And so Jackie gives the Doctor a mission: he must take Rose on a "nice date". However, how he interprets this directive is up to him.


**Author's Notes:** This fic is a thank-you to Develish1 for taking part in helping someone else in need. Her prompt: _I'd like some Doctor/Rose fluffy romance...TenII I think. Something covering their first proper "date" in Pete's world, where they're just starting to settle in to a relationship._

A small amount of dialogue between Rose and the Doctor uses some wording from or inspired by _The Doctor Dances_.

**Disclaimer:** This story takes place within the Doctor Who universe. This story is a way of re-interpreting concepts and ideas already present in Doctor Who. All Doctor Who characters within belong to the BBC. This story is for fun and for sharing, but not for profit.

* * *

**Showing his Moves**

The coastline of Norway receded into the distance, its impressive fjords reducing to fantastical scribbles punctuated by gleaming sea on the face of the Earth. Rose watched them slowly shrink until she saw nothing but the silvery sunshine on waves far below. She stood at the narrow, rounded window with her head leaning against the top frame. Through the thin walls of the gondola that hung from the airship, she could hear the thrumming of the propellers beating out a steady rhythm. The toes of her bare, tired feet sank into the fibers of the luxurious carpet in their small sitting room.

And yet, she would trade the decadent feel of the carpet in an instant to stand again on the hard metal grating of the Tardis console room with her Doctor-the Doctor in the brown suit (well, brown most of the time). The Time Lord. The one who ran to her on that dark street with joy illuminating his face. The one who left her this morning in this universe-the one who felt obliged to give her up to his clone.

She turned away from the window. The meta-crisis Doctor sat patiently on the carved, wooden settee, watching her. His face was impassive, but his gaze followed her. His long legs were outstretched in familiar nonchalance, but he was very still, waiting for her. Jackie sat in a chair by a small writing table in the far corner.

'What do I call you?' Rose started to pace back and forth. She felt trapped by the small, elegant room. 'I can't call you "The Doctor".'

He reared his head back. Jackie looked back and forth between them. She frowned.

'Why not,' he asked, almost petulantly. 'That's my name.'

Rose stopped and stared at him. 'That's _his_ name. You're different.'

'No, I'm not! Well,' he amended, 'maybe I've lost one of my hearts and lost my regenerative abilities, but that was something done to me. That was the meta-crisis. I didn't choose to lose them! I didn't choose to be duplicated. For nine hundred years, I was doing just fine-thank you very much!-being a Time-Lord, and then, _boom!_-' and here he flung out his hands, fingers outspread, making Rose jump back '-I'm duplicated and stuffed into a version of myself with human genes. You think I chose that? That I feel I'm a different person? Because I assure you, I'm not!'

'You don't even talk like him!' she shot back. 'Bits and pieces, yeah, but then you change. Sudden. Like Donna, sometimes.'

'Considering it was her genes,' he growled. 'I'm me, Rose. You know me! Just because a few things got dropped into the mix, I'm still me! I'm not some different person hijacking this body. In fact, it feels like this body is hijacking me. It's what's different. Not me.'

Rose blinked back sudden tears. 'You feel like that?' she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

He nodded, gazing down at the carpet. 'Yeah,' he mumbled. 'Still getting used to this. Think I'll be trying to get used to it for a while.' He fidgeted. 'But I still am the Doctor.''

Rose bit the corner of her lower lip. 'You still feel different.'

'Not in the ways that are important,' he argued. 'He told you myself. We're the same. Ha! I can't even say "he" without tripping over it. He is me.' He reached out and took one of Rose's hands. She let him, but her fingers remained limp. 'If you can't believe me, believe him!'

A tear rolled down her cheek. 'I do,' she whispered. 'But he also said you were full of blood, anger and revenge.'

He let go of her hand and it dropped back to her side. He slumped against the back of the settee. 'I see,' he said.

Neither spoke. Silence fell as if it was a living thing, dampening any communication. They avoided each other's gaze, and Jackie shook her head, cradling her head in one hand.

Finally he stirred, though he still averted his gaze, instead looking out the window to the clouds beyond. 'It doesn't define who I am,' he said softy. 'Maybe there's some of that. Yeah. But don't you think that he could have been exaggerating? We aren't the only ones affected by all of this.'

'I know,' said Rose sharply. 'I can't stop thinking about it-how he must be feeling right now.'

'He's most likely not "now" any more,' he reminded her. 'Time moves differently in each universe. Also, he may have gone somewhere in time after he and Donna returned...' He gulped then. 'After they did whatever they needed to do next.' He rubbed his forehead fitfully.

Rose didn't notice his movement. She stalked over to him. 'I don't care!' she cried. 'He's a Time Lord. It's been half a day since he returned home. He's had half a day in his time-line, same as us. I don't care where he is in a calendar. He's still feeling it! You should know that, if you are as Time-Lord as you claim to be!'

He winced. 'Sorry,' he mumbled.

Jackie came over from her spot and sat down beside him. 'He probably did exaggerate, darling,' she said to Rose.

'Mum, keep out of this!'

'Sorry!' she said and crossed her arms.

The meta-crisis Doctor stood up with a jerk and stalked over to the window, standing against the edge further from Rose. He lowered his head, staring sightlessly out at the clouds. The square beam of sunlight through the window illuminated his front. The maroon t-shirt and blue suit glowed brightly and his spiky fringe cast thin shadows down his face. The rest of him was dim in the shade.

'You've already seen me with "blood, anger and revenge",' he said so softly that Rose and Jackie had a hard time hearing him. 'Me how I was before. Before-before, I suppose. When I had big ears.'

'That was different,' she said stubbornly. 'Back then, you were softer underneath. The anger was easy to see, but underneath, you were gentle. But after you changed, you were always friendly on top but underneath, you could get so angry. Now? What if what's underneath is stronger, darker.'

He flinched. 'At least you acknowledge I was him.'

Rose said nothing.

'You said it yourself,' he continued. 'I was already like that. The new, new me. Now I'm new, new, new... Don't you think for one minute he doesn't still have that himself. He's just as capable of letting that anger, those emotions control him.'

She pinched the bridge of her nose. 'Maybe,' she admitted. 'But he said you were dangerous. Worse.'

'So... I shouldn't have destroyed the Daleks? Let them overrun the universe? Destroy reality?' He pushed himself away from the window, standing fully now in the sunbeam. 'They would have done it another way. It wasn't just one, old, left-over Dalek wanting to see the sun. These were in their prime, all thought bent on hatred. It was kill or be killed. I had to make the hard decision.'

'You followed Dalek Caan so easily,' she snapped. 'You didn't even try to think of alternatives.'

He tensed, balling his hands into fists. 'I've had the better part of a millennia to try to think of alternatives! That was the second time I committed genocide, Rose! The second time! First time was as him. Do you think that I did it lightly without thinking of alternatives?' He stopped then, breathing hard.

Rose faced him. 'Yes, I do! He thought of them! He even begged-'

'Rose,' cried Jackie. She jumped up and stood between them. 'Stop it, both of you! Not even one day, not even home, and you're already hurting each other. Now, listen to me-'

'Mum-' began Rose.

'Shut it! I'm talking now.' Behind Jackie, the meta-crisis Doctor straightened, his hands slowly unclenching. 'Look, both of you have been through a lot. You need to be patient.'

'Jackie, I-' he began.

'Be quiet!' she screeched. 'Goodness, what does it take? Now, listen! This is what you're going to do. We get home, get settled. And then you, Doctor, are going to take Rose out on a date. D'you understand?'

He looked stunned. 'I am?'

'Oh, yes, you are! A nice date. Something you two will enjoy. No arguing, no who-did-what or who-said-what. Just a nice date. And you, Rose, you're going to call him the Doctor. Maybe he's the Doctor with differences, but he's still the Doctor. Don't do that to him. Don't take away his name. It's all he's got.'

Rose dropped down onto the settee, mouth open. She shut it and then nodded.

Jackie nodded, satisfied, and then whirled around. 'A nice date. Understood?'

All the anger had drained from him. He gulped. 'Yes, ma'am.'

She swatted his arm. 'Ma'am? Get away with you.' She pointed at the settee. 'Now, sit down and relax.'

He sidestepped out of her reach. 'Actually,' he said meekly, 'I have to use the loo.' He grimaced. 'This new body seems to-'

'Well, don't tell me about it, you daft alien. Get going, then!'

He obeyed her with alacrity and disappeared through the door. Jackie sat down beside Rose with a huff and turned to face her.

'What was all that about, darling?' she asked gently. She slowly stroked Rose's hair, tucking strands of it behind her daughter's ear. 'You don't trust him any more? You don't want to spend your life with him? 'Cause that's what you seemed to promise on the beach.'

'I chose him, Mum! Of course I'm not going to reject him. I love him. At least, I love what he came from. I just need to... need to... know.' She gestured helplessly. 'I don't know.'

'Get to know him again?' suggested Jackie.

'Yeah,' she mumbled. 'I think.'

'Make sure he believes that, sweetheart,' said Jackie. 'It sounded to me like you were rejecting him. If it sounded like that to me, and I was just watching, how do you think it sounded to him?'

Rose hung her head. Jackie put her arm around her. Rose burrowed her head against Jackie's shoulder. Suddenly a tear dripped down onto Jackie's trouser-leg.

'Oh, darling, darling,' Jackie whispered. 'It's not that bad. Not bad at all. You're tired, upset, and you've been through a lot. You'll recognize him when you give him a chance. Honest, you will. Trust yourself. You knew on the beach. Now you're just second-guessing yourself. And him. That's all this is.'

'I hope so,' Rose whispered.

Jackie kissed the crown of Rose's head. 'It is,' she promised.

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

When the Doctor returned, Rose had already left to find her own sleeping quarters that she shared with her mother. Jackie remained in the sitting room, picking at polish on a fingernail. The moment she saw him enter and pull the sliding door shut, she jumped up.

'Right then,' she said cheerfully. 'Now, you sit over here,' and she steered him backwards with her hands up on his shoulders. She pushed him down onto the chair by the writing table and he sat, confused, but unprotesting. 'Rose has gone to bed. Lord knows you don't get tired, but she's knackered.'

He scratched his ear. 'Well, actually, with this body-it seems it gets tired pretty easily too. I could do with a kip.' He grimaced.

'Oh!' Jackie paused and considered him. Her expression softened. 'My poor lamb. You really are a fish out of water, aren't you.'

He shrugged and looked away.

'Never mind,' she said. 'We booked a sleeping berth for you anyway. 7B. Not sure where it is, exactly. You'll have to ask the steward. It's in the singles section.'

'Right,' he mumbled. 'I'll find it.'

'In the meantime, you can start thinking about the date you're going to take her on.' Jackie pushed a pen and wide pad of paper towards him. 'Make plans. A really, really nice date. If you need any help to arrange anything, you just ask, you hear? Pete and I will be happy to help you.'

He stared at the paper. _Scandinavian Airshiplines_ was embossed across the top with a logo of a stylized airship. 'Yeah,' he finally answered.

Jackie patted his shoulder. 'We'll see you in the morning, all right?'

He looked up at her then and a wan smile crossed his features. 'Yeah,' he said again, and then added, 'Thanks.'

Jackie gave him one more pat to his shoulder and left, the sound of the sliding door whisper-soft in its tracks.

The Doctor looked around him at the empty room. The thrum of the propellers was his only companion. He looked back down at the paper. _A nice date_, Jackie had said. He wrote those words in the middle and then, as an afterthought, he circled them and then put the pen down. He scowled. Several minutes passed. He traced overtop the letters and then again. The words stood out on the page, dark and challenging. He picked up the pen and twiddled it between his fingers. _Nice_, he wrote again underneath the circle. _Rose_, he added at the top. He traced over this word too, though his expression was not as strained, and he pressed the nib gently over each letter.

After a few minutes, he scribbled _Candlelight dinner?_ to the right. Underneath he began a list: _candles, dinner, restaurant_. He surveyed the list with distaste. His eyes flicked back to the words, _A nice date_.

He fidgeted and looked around the room. Then he looked back at the pad of paper. _A nice date_. He unscrewed the two halves of the pen and took out the ink cartridge and the tiny spring and plunger. He rolled the spring between his fingers, noting its tensile strength, and then finally squished the ends of the spring together between thumb and forefinger and watched it spring in the air and land with a tiny ping on the table. He watched it roll across the surface and then caught it as it fell over the edge. He reassembled the pen.

_Adventure?_ he wrote to the left. His expression brightened for a moment before it sank back into gloom. _No more Tardis_, he wrote underneath. Elbow on table, he cradled his head in his hand. He wielded the pen again. The outlines of a light appeared on the top of a roof as he drew. Long vertical lines formed the sides of a tall box. Smaller rectangles and shorter lines formed inset panels and windows, and another single, long line divided these into two narrow doors. As he worked at it, a soft smile appeared on his face.

The pen nib scratched softly as the base of the box developed followed by a simple handle-pull on the right door. Tiny words formed on a sign for the left door. _Police Box_ appeared under the roof. Shading deepened every contour. The image stood vividly in blue ink on the page, perfect in every detail.

He placed the pen on the table, and he stared at the drawing. Slowly, he reached out a finger and ran it over the lines of the box. He did not notice ink beginning to stain his fingertip.

Abruptly, he pushed his chair back from the table and quitted the room. Behind him, the pad of paper lay on the table, with its vivid blue drawing of a box slightly smudged along its lines.

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

The attendant followed them into the sitting room bearing a tray with fruit, pastries and single-serving plastic juice cups.

'We will be arriving in London in an hour,' the woman told Jackie and Rose. 'Please be ready to disembark at that time.'

'Ta,' said Jackie and she gazed around the room as the attendant left. 'I think we're in the same room we had last night.'

'Yeah, maybe,' mumbled Rose and she yawned, stretching her arms above her. 'I wonder where the, um, the Doctor is.'

Jackie smiled. 'You called him by his name. That wasn't so hard, was it now?'

Rose brought her arms back down and she shrugged. 'No. Not really.' She paused for a moment. 'I think I was a little unfair last night.'

'Yeah, you were,' Jackie said softly. 'But that was last night. You're awake now and it's a new day. A new day for both of you.' She wandered over to the table which bore the breakfast tray. She picked up a juice cup and peeled off the metallic-paper lid. 'Hang on.' She peered over the edge of the tray. Underneath, half-hidden, the pad of paper lay, with blue ink and the bottom of a drawing showing. She pulled the pad out and perused it.

'Oh,' was all she said, but a note of regret tinged the syllable.

'What, Mum?' asked Rose, alert to the shift in emotion.

Jackie wordlessly held out the pad of paper. Rose frowned and took it. As she stared at the paper, however, the frown disappeared.

'Oh,' she said. 'Oh, Mum...'

'Yeah.' Jackie nodded rapidly. She swallowed.

'Oh, Mum,' repeated Rose. 'What've I done?'

'You didn't do anything, sweetheart,' said Jackie fiercely. 'You were just tired, confused and hurting. You hear? But so is he. Remember that. And he's homesick, though I bet you anything he'll never tell you that.'

'No, he won't,' Rose said absently. She gazed at the image. Suddenly she tore the top sheet of paper off the pad and threw the pad back onto the table. She folded the paper slowly, pressing the edges of the paper down around the drawing of the Tardis so as not to mar the image with a single line. 'No. He wouldn't.' She carefully inserted the folded paper into her jacket pocket and zipped it closed.

'Right,' she said, her voice suddenly too loud and too cheery. 'I'm famished.' She grabbed a croissant off the tray and began to eat it in large bites.

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

They didn't see the Doctor until the airship docked in London. He suddenly appeared, hands in pockets, ambling towards them as they waited for the gantry to be extended and the exterior doors to open. His hair was mussed even more than usual. While some of his fringe uncharacteristically lay curving gently over his forehead, the rest of it still stubbornly defied gravity.

'Good morning, sleepyhead,' called Jackie cheerfully.

Rose smiled in spite of herself, and the Doctor saw her. His answering smile lit up his face as he came to stand beside her.

'You okay?' she whispered.

'Yeah,' he whispered back.

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

Two days later, the Doctor asked Rose out on a date. He wouldn't tell her where they were going, but he did ask her to wear comfortable clothing.

They left the mansion at four in the morning. The time was not a problem. _Alternate universal jet lag,_ the Doctor joked, and then added, _meta-crisis jet lag_. It was the first time he had ever experienced jet-lag of any kind.

They boarded a steam train from Paddington. The destination was Bristol, but the Doctor wouldn't give anything else away. He also wouldn't tell her what he carried in a rucksack or why he was not wearing his blue suit. Instead, he wore a t-shirt and a pair of tracksuit bottoms that were a little too big on him. The effect was bizarre and Rose didn't know what to make of this. She was in black trousers and black form-fitting jacket which still allowed movement. Now she wondered if she were overdressed.

The trip there was a little awkward. The Doctor could sense Rose's reserve and so he shied away from any meaningful conversation. Instead, he kept up a steady patter of comparisons between the technologies of trains in both universes, praising this universe's use of streamlined pipes and diesel to heat the water that made steam travel more efficient and a lot cleaner.

Once they arrived at Bristol Temple Meads, the Doctor lead her outside to where a car was waiting. They got in, and without a word, the driver pulled out into the early morning traffic. The Doctor still didn't tell her their destination, although Rose could tell they were going southwest, judging from the sun's position. She racked her brain trying to remember what lay to the southwest of Bristol.

The city gave way to countryside and quickly in turn to farmland. After some time, she suddenly realized that steep cliffs were rising up on either side of the road. The road became tortuous and the cliffs like walls. Beside her, the Doctor was avidly watching the geography passing them by.

The driver pulled into a car park at the base of the cliff. As the Doctor and Rose got out and began to walk across the road, she spotted a sign over the entrance of a building. '"Gough's Cave",' she read out. She frowned. 'Hang on.' She stared at the Doctor. 'Are we at Cheddar Gorge?'

His sudden grin answered her. 'Yeah! What do you think? Ready for a little exploring?'

'Um... what about the crowds?' she asked as they crossed the road. She looked around. The place was deserted. 'Uh, Doctor, are we going to break in?'

'No,' he assured her, but she thought she could just detect a hint of regret.

By this time, they had reached the other side and were approaching the building. A man and woman came to meet them.

'Welcome, Dr. Smith,' the woman said. 'I'm Laura Winters and this is George Pierce. Thank you very much for coming. We're so glad that Torchwood chose to send us some experts in the field.'

Rose stared at the Doctor, but quickly adopted a neutral expression.

'Come this way,' said George and he led them through the entrance way, down a hallway and to a locker room. He opened two lockers and brought out what looked like boiler suits. 'Put these on. I'll get Mark to take you through into the caves.'

'Oh, I work better on my own,' said the Doctor casually. 'Except for my fellow expert here, of course. Best to leave us to our work.'

George looked dubious, but then shrugged. 'If they hadn't sung your praises, I wouldn't allow it, but I confess-we've been stymied by the readings. All right. Familiar with the layout?'

'Oh yes.' The Doctor nodded busily. 'Saw the maps, know about the readings.'

'Right,' said George. 'Here is your gear: rope for emergencies, radio, first aid kit, and torches.'

'Ta,' answered the Doctor. 'We'll just get changed, then.'

'Any trouble, just use the radios for help.' George and Laura left.

'Work?' queried Rose as she heard the footsteps recede. She crossed her arms. 'I thought this was supposed to be a date.'

'Oh, well...' The Doctor shuffled his feet. 'I didn't want crowds around, and Torchwood did receive reports of odd readings. It's still not even seven o'clock. Hours until the tourists start coming. This way, we get the place to ourselves.'

'But... working?'

'No, no, no!' he said hastily. 'Not with a few passes of this.' He brought a long, slim familiar gadget from his pocket.

'The sonic screwdriver,' breathed Rose. 'How did you get it? Did you...he... have an extra one?'

'I stole it. Well, not really stole it. I've been using it for ages. Literally. Well, maybe not ages but for a long time. Well, for two years since the last one melted.'

'Can he make another?' Rose's brow furrowed.

'Oh, yes! Several, if he wants. Took this too.' He pulled out the psychic paper, waved it about and returned it to his pocket. 'Plenty more where that came from. Just wasn't sure how I'd get my hands on some here. Thought I'd have to use it today, but I suppose not.'

'So...' Rose fingered the boiler suit on the bench in front of her. 'Caves?'

'Caves!' He bounced on his feet, his eyes sparkling. 'Caves are brilliant!'

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

Clad in boiler suits, they made their way down the passageway to the entrance of the first cave. As the cave opened up before them, Rose looked up and around.

'Wow,' she breathed.

The cavern was wide, but the rocky ceiling was so irregular that she got both the feeling of huge expanse and intimate discovery at the same time. As they followed the smooth path, they passed walls of bizarrely carved stone rivulets, eroded through time by water. Columns of stone, formed by the dripping of mineral-rich water over millennia, hung from the roof or stretched up from the floor. Here and there was a complete column touching both floor and ceiling.

'Stalagmites and stalactites,' said the Doctor. 'Stalactites are-'

'I know,' interrupted Rose. '"Stalactites cling _tight_ to the roof, and stalagmites just _might_ get up there one day.'

He stared at her and then nodded slowly. 'That's... that's a good way to remember it.'

'Learned that in school,' said Rose smugly.

Ahead of them, a wide pool of water stretched out before them. It was as still as glass, and all the stalactites and honeycombed surfaces of eroded rock reflected on the surface. Rich yellows, browns and tans shone and glittered with moisture seeping through the rock. Shadows and veins of blue and grey contoured the hollows and irregularities.

'I feel like we're on a different planet,' whispered Rose. 'It's hard to think this is so close to London.'

'Isn't it wizard?' He bounded over to the edge of the pool much like an overactive puppy. He looked down into the water. 'It's clear. Have a look.'

'Wizard?' Rose followed him. However, when she looked into the pool, she found he was right. She felt tempted to plunge her hand in to feel the temperature and to see if she could touch the bottom. She found it hard to gauge the depth. However, she didn't want to disturb the crystal-clear still water, and she didn't know if it would muck up some kind of delicate ecosystem. _Probably not_, she thought, but old habits and caution from exploring strange worlds with the Doctor were hard to shake.

'Now for the fun part,' he said. He grabbed her hand and led her through the rest of the multi-level cave to the very back. A shallow incline in the rock led up to an opening that was hidden in the shadows. He let go of her hand, clambered up and stood at the opening. He held out his hand. Rose followed, ignoring the proffered help. He turned and slipped through the entrance. However, when she reached the gap, she couldn't see anything in the dark. She turned on the lamp to find it illuminating the Doctor who was turning around 360 degrees on the spot holding out a whirring screwdriver.

'Funny readings?' she asked.

He shook his head. 'Nah. Further in, I think.'

They passed through this cave into one beyond, though they had to crawl on hands and knees. By this point, the Doctor was forced to turn on his own lamp, his superior Time Lord sight no help when there was no ambient light left.

'Now it becomes interesting,' he said. 'In our universe, this has all been explored and is even part of a caving tour. But here, there've been funny readings, and they've never gone beyond the next bit.'

'So, um, what kind of readings?' asked Rose. Even though her headlamp illuminated the area in front of her, the darkness behind and above her seemed to press in around her. She looked up at the rocky roof and wondered how stable it was. She drew close to the Doctor.

'Rock stability, seismic, air quality,' he murmured, scanning again.

'Um...' She looked around at the walls of the cave. 'Stability?'

'Yup,' he murmured absently. 'So! Shall we go on?'

Rose put her hands on her hips. 'Not until you tell me the roof isn't going to crash in around us.'

'Sorry!' He peered at her. 'No, not at all. There are, er, "funny readings", but they're not going to bother us at all.'

'Ooh! What kind of funny?' She tried to catch a glimpse of the screwdriver but, as usual, she couldn't make head or tails of the readout.

He scratched the back of his head. 'I'm not sure,' he admitted. 'Government experiment cover-up? Maybe aliens crash landing eons ago.'

'Really?' She stared at him. 'Or are you just having me on?'

'No, really!' he protested. 'Whatever these minerals are, it isn't natural to the rock in this region. And some of the rock has been shifted by something. Won't fall down-we're perfectly safe-but something's done something.'

'Right! I knew caves couldn't just be caves with you around,' she quipped. 'Let's go on.'

He looked at her admiringly and then cautiously stepped forward towards the back edge of the cave. As Rose's headlamp beam followed him, she saw him lean forward cautiously and look down-look far down. He stepped back and looked over his shoulder at her.

'Ready for a little climbing?' he asked. 'Climbing down?'

'Down?' she squeaked. 'How far down?'

He looked over the edge again and then tilted his head as he considered. '40-50 feet?'

'Um,' gulped Rose and her heart began to hammer. 'We don't have any proper climbing stuff.'

'There's a ladder,' he offered. 'Riveted to the cliff face.'

She strode up to him and swatted him on his arm. He yelped.

'Could have told me that!' she growled.

'Sorry!'

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

They had climbed, crawled, slid and wriggled through what seemed like half the Gorge before they found themselves back almost where they had started. As they emerged back into the original, large cave, breathless and giddy and blinking from the brighter lights, Rose found herself bumping shoulders amiably with the Doctor.

'You're muddy,' she said in a very serious tone. His face and hair were smeared with mud, his fringe taking on life as a new kind of sculpture.

'That's the pot calling the kettle black,' he answered. He touched her hair which hung stiffly. 'No more golden-haired Rose.' He sounded mournful. Then he brightened. 'But there's a remedy for that.'

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

Little did Rose know that the Doctor's idea of a remedy would be quite so heavenly. After he had reported his findings to Winters and Pierce (the cause of the readings had indeed been the chemicals from an ancient starship that had leached into the sandstone, and the shifting of the rocks a legacy of the impact of the crash; it was all quite harmless, really), the car that had brought Rose and the Doctor to the Gorge took them in turn to Bath. In fact, it had dropped them off outside a very modern and lushly appointed spa.

Rose washed away the last traces of mud in a waterfall shower and then soaked her tired muscles in a bath that was more like a pool, surrounded by richly-coloured tile mosaics and columns, reminiscent of the ancient Roman baths that lay not far from there. Then she was laid on a comfortable bed and attendants massaged and pummelled her body into a blissfully, boneless pile of human being. She had no idea where the Doctor had gone, but she was too relaxed to care other than a vague thought that he'd be horrified at the idea of a spa for himself.

But it was when she came out of the shower room once again and back to her changing room that she found the rucksack waiting for her. Her own clothes that she had worn to the caves were nowhere to be seen. A note lay on the rucksack. _Change into this_ was all it said.

Slowly, she opened the top of the rucksack and peered down into it. Part way down lay a smaller bag which she drew out. Inside that, she found a pile of royal blue cloth shot through with silver thread. She shook it out and it became an elegant dress, with long, fitted sleeves, a wide boat neckline and tea-length skirt.

She looked in the rucksack again and found another bag with underthings and a small makeup bag. At the very bottom were a pair of strappy sandals with modest heels. She grinned. Whoever had packed this knew she hated high heels. No-one could run in high heels.

When she was finished dressing, she found that the dress draped softly as it shimmered. The back of the boat neckline dipped lower than the front in gentle folds exposing her shoulder blades, and the skirt had one layer under it to allow it to swirl freely but not enough to become frilly or stiff. The sandals fit well. She smiled. Yes. She could run in these.

There was no jewellery save for two diamond-drop earrings and a gold-toned hair clip. Pete had given them to her on her first birthday in this universe, but she had never worn them. A busy life in Torchwood did not lend itself to such expensive elegance. She put the earrings on and caught up her hair loosely in the clip, letting the rest of her hair hang over the back of her shoulders. She stood back. She shook her head just a little, and the diamonds sparkled as they swung back and forth.

She hardly recognized herself.

~ o ~ O ~ o ~

The Doctor was nowhere to be seen when Rose emerged into the lobby of the spa. However, the attendant at the reception desk handed back her previous clothing, freshly laundered and folded, which Rose popped into the rucksack.

'Your car is waiting for you outside,' said the attendant.

When Rose climbed into the car, however, the Doctor was nowhere to be seen. But before she could ask where he was, the driver had already smoothly pulled the car out into the road and merged with traffic. Rose shrugged and sat back to enjoy the ride. Out of the windows, she could see the darkening blue sky. It was almost clear of traffic-only one small zeppelin was almost disappearing at the horizon. It almost felt as if she were back home in her own universe. She shook off that feeling.

It was not long at all before the car pulled up before a nightclub, still in the heart of Bath. The tall east front of Bath Abbey towered in the near distance, and the Georgian buildings stretched down the road in tall, close rows.

The driver hopped out and, as quick as lightning, reached her door and opened it.

'Leave the rucksack in here,' he said. 'I'll look after your things. Go right on inside, ma'am. He's waiting for you.'

She thanked him and walked up the steps to the elegant Georgian hotel. Inside, as soon as she gave her name, she was ushered to the doors of a nightclub. She peered inside. It was all polished mahogany and sparkling faceted glass windows. Through the interior windows, she could see into the main part of a club. At the far end, a band was set up with quite a wide variety of instruments with a predominance of brass. In front of them, a tall, slim man was talking animatedly to a singer standing at the mic. Rose could only see the back of the talkative man, and in the lowered lighting and distance, she couldn't see much detail, but she knew instantly who he was. She shook her head and grinned. Clone or not, some things never changed.

The maitre d' approached the Doctor and whispered something in his ear. The reaction in the Doctor was electric. He jumped down the steps, sprinted across the dance floor and whipped around a tall plant, nearly causing it to fall. Rose giggled as he only just caught it before it came crashing down. He sheepishly apologized to nearby diners before sliding into a chair by a secluded table in the semi-circle of a bay window.

By the time Rose was brought to the table, all she could see was a composed Doctor rising to meet her. There was little sign of his mad dash across the club, save for very slight, noticeable breathing.

He wore a classic black dinner jacket with a plain white dress shirt, black tie and cummerbund. The suit fitted him as closely as his usual suit, and Rose caught her breath at the slim, dark figure. She looked up and his deep, chocolate brown eyes regarded her intently.

'Hello, Rose,' he said softly.

'Hi,' she answered, equally quietly.

When a moment passed, and they still stood there, Rose finally spoke. 'Maybe we should sit down.'

'Oh! Right!' He promptly sat down and waited for her. When she didn't move, he looked up at her quizzically.

She grinned back. 'I see you're not quite trained.'

He frowned and thought for a moment. 'Oh, right!' he repeated and bounded to his feet. 'Yes-think I've seen this before.' He scurried around and pulled out her chair. She sat down and he gently slid the chair forward under her.

As he returned to his own chair, she nodded appreciatively. 'Not bad. You learn fast.'

He tapped his forehead. 'Superior Time Lord brain. Allows me to-just about-grasp the complexities of human rituals. Almost. Still need some practice.' He fiddled with the serviette.

'I think you had loads of practice the past two days,' Rose murmured. 'The caves, the spa... this? When Mum said a nice date, I didn't think you'd do all this. Or, well, maybe one of them. I can't imagine how much this is going to cost.'

'Ah. Well, yeah.' The Doctor continued to fiddle with the serviette, absently folding it into complex geometric patterns. 'Um... Pete might have had a hand in, er, planning. A bit insistent, actually. Told me that planning a date was "Big stuff, mate".'

Rose nodded, smiling slightly smugly. 'Thought so.'

The Doctor leaned forward. 'Does it matter?' he asked. 'That... that Pete helped?'

'Nah,' she said. 'But which was your idea? The caves?'

'Caves and this, actually. Pete suggested the spa. He said women were mad for spas, and that you'd want to clean up before coming here.'

'He was right,' she murmured. 'That was heaven!'

The waiter came then, but when he enquired about drinks, Rose shrugged. 'Water for me.'

The Doctor agreed, and the waiter nodded solemnly and glided off.

'You are beautiful,' the Doctor blurted suddenly. Just as hastily he added, 'But you always look beautiful.'

'Even with mud in my hair?' she asked. She grinned then with the tip of her tongue poking out.

'Especially with mud in your hair,' he murmured. 'Muddy Rose. I like muddy Rose. Mind you,' he amended, 'I like clean Rose too. Rose with the golden hair.'

She smiled and rested her head in her hand. 'You look rather nice yourself.'

He shrugged at this, but she suspected that he was pleased. 'Did you like the caves?' he asked, and he shifted restlessly in his seat.

'Yeah, I did.' She took pity on him and laid her hand on his. 'It felt like-' and here she cleared her throat, 'er, like old times.'

'Old times,' he repeated softly.

'With him... or... you...Both of you?' She took her hand away and looked down at her lap. 'I don't know. Something like that.'

'Something like that,' he whispered.

She looked up at him and something in his eyes, something like the look of a lost little boy gave her pause. 'It felt right,' she admitted. 'Exploring with you.' She fidgeted. 'It felt like maybe the core of you was the same, yeah? But around it, there are differences. Things I have to get used to.'

'Me too,' he said slowly. 'I'm still sorting them all out for myself. Maybe...' and here he raised his eyebrows and leaned forward just a touch. 'Maybe we can explore them together. Start with what we know, and then... figure it out as we go?'

Rose stared at him. 'You said that on the flight back home. I keep forgetting that you're not, um, ready made. Complete as you are. I mean, you don't even know yourself. Not completely.' She thought for a moment. 'Is it something like...' She frowned. 'As if, instead of coming from outside and taking his...his knowledge and memories, instead you came from inside, really him, but different things shoved into you.' She shook her head. 'That sounded silly. I'm rubbish at explaining.'

'No, you're not,' he objected. 'That sounded fine to me. I did come from him. I was him, well, not him any more. Now we're separate. But I was him. Him. Me. Not someone else "coming from outside" as you put it.'

'Yeah,' she said. 'You said that before. I'm sorry. It's hard. Seeing you change before was odd, but this time... Two of you, and you-you a bit different. Maybe I'm just being thick. I s'pose it's obvious to you.'

He grimaced. 'Not even that obvious to me. Remember when I first became me? Back after the Game Station? I didn't know what kind of man I was? Back to the drawing board, I suppose. But the blueprints are mostly done. Just needs some shading between the lines.'

'But not too much,' she murmured. 'There aren't that many differences, really. So far. I mean, you're just as bouncy and bendy. And goofy.' She grinned at this last bit.

'Although I need to sleep, eat and, well, other things just like you lot.' He grimaced. 'Rubbish, I tell you.'

'You'll live,' she said, and she tapped the tip of his long nose.

'I hope so,' he answered, but his voice was soft. 'If you're in my life.'

Rose looked down at the table. Through the window, the sky was almost completely dark. The restaurant was lit, but low lighting and candles on tables kept the rest of the room in shadow. Instead, the candle on their table illuminated the Doctor's face, creating a world of just him and her. He looked at her hopefully but cautiously, and she felt a pang. She had chosen him on the beach, but then she remembered how she was during the argument on the airship. He knew she hadn't actually rejected him, didn't he? Her mother's words came back to her: _Make sure he believes that._ And yet, this Doctor's differences had thrown her.

Without really knowing what she was doing, she held out her hand. 'Maybe it's time you showed me your moves.'

'My moves?' he squeaked.

Growing a little bolder, she nodded and flourished her hand slightly. 'Yeah. You heard me.'

'Er, all right,' he said and he stood. He took her hand and walked around the table until he was standing by her. 'Come with me?'

She stood up, so close to him that they were brushing together, front to front. The moment passed for he stepped away courteously, but she shivered at the sudden intimacy.

He led her through the other tables, past the waiter who had just come with their drinks.

The band had been playing some melodic but subdued, background music. However, when they saw the Doctor lead Rose into the middle of the empty dance floor, the lead singer raised his eyebrows in query. The Doctor merely nodded, with a hint of an answering smile. Then he focused his gaze back on her.

'You want moves, Rose Tyler? I'll show you my moves.'

The music came to a natural close, and there was a quick, whispered conference behind them, up on the stage. The Doctor ignored it and instead gently placed her hand on his shoulder and held her other in a loose, comfortable frame. He never took his gaze from her.

From behind them, the brass band began to play, a mellow, syncopated, familiar tune. Rose gasped. It wasn't crackly from an ancient speaker system, nor was it an old recording. It was rich and vibrant. But instantly the memories of an old cement room in a hospital and blue eyes and a battered leather jacket flashed before her.

Perfectly in step with the beat, though perhaps not quite as smoothly as a certain 51st Century con man Rose once knew, the Doctor led her into a gently swaying dance. Not wanting to break the spell, and with tears threatening to fall, Rose closed her eyes and nestled her head against his chest. A slight hitch in his rhythm betrayed his surprise, but he simply tightened his arms around her and adjusted his steps. There was no leather under her cheek, but the dinner jacket was safely anonymous with no brown or blue cloth to confront her. She breathed deeply, calming herself, and suddenly his scent came to her. There was no hint of leather, but a familiar suggestion of cinnamon came through, tinged with the slightest musk of human male. But before she could react to the mix of the well-known and the new, she caught, underneath, the scent she most loved: the undefinable smell of the universe. She had never known what Gallifrey smelled like, but it always seemed to her that he always carried the air of an alien world out of reach, of the depth of space with the remote stars like diamonds scattered across the dark. He. The Doctor. He had always smelled like this, whether he wore leather or pinstripes. Brown pinstripes. She had never caught any scent from this Doctor in blue. Even on the beach when she kissed him, her mind had reeled from the choice forced on her and the breeze had carried away anything so intimate as a smell.

But there it was. That scent. Subtle, but so very him. The Doctor. No-one else could smell like that: like Time and mystery and the unfathomable reaches of space all rolled into one. She snuggled deeper into his embrace. Their steps shrank to almost a swaying back and forth on the spot and time slowed down, only measured by the beat of his heart under her ear and the rhythmic shuffle of their feet under them.

The music ended, and reluctantly she raised her head. 'The music stopped.'

He smiled down at her. 'It did,' he agreed solemnly.

His eyes were dark and his hair stuck up in its usual dishevelled manner. Rose reached up and stroked his left sideburn. He watched her, still holding her close to him.

'Thank you... Doctor,' she said softly, with the slightest of emphasis on _Doctor_.

Just the tiniest tightening of his arms around her told her that he understood her words. A moment passed and neither of them moved. And then... and then, he dipped his head ever so slightly and then stopped. The message was clear and, in answer, she tilted her head up just a little.

His boyish grin lit up his face and his eyes sparkled.

'Wow,' he whispered, and he closed the gap between them.

Behind them, the band began to play _Moonlight Serenade_ once more, weaving the melody in and out of improvised harmonies.

And at last, when the two parted and looked at each other, flushed, and eyes shining, Rose whispered, 'Did you book a room here? For the night?'

The Doctor fingered a stray lock of her hair and then tucked it behind her ear. 'Ye-' He cleared his throat. 'Yeah, I did. Er, just in case you, uh, wanted it.'

She reached up and brushed back errant strands of his fringe. 'Then, Mr. Time-Lord-with-just-a-dash-of-human, I think it's time for your next adventure. You showed me some of your moves. Now show me how you dance.'

He gaped at her. 'I, er, I just... Ah. Mm.' He nodded vigorously. 'Right. Er, yes. Not really that hungry anyway.'

And as he led her from the dance floor and out of the nightclub, the band members grinned at each other and kept on playing.

_The End_


End file.
